Kaiju- Battlefield Surgeon

by Matt Dinniman

  The two-headed kaiju had a green exclamation point floating over it. I didn’t know what that meant, but I suspected it indicated the kaiju was under player control.

  The Sizzle and Steak button grayed out, and a five-hour countdown timer appeared.

  I tentatively fell back onto all fours. I couldn’t move, lest I burn myself on my own special ability. But as the shaking subsided, the lava eased, turning black and then solid as it rapidly cooled.

  I could burrow away. I knew I wouldn’t be able to defeat Orthrus. The wolf was about a third again bigger than me, was probably at 100% strength, and it was controlled by someone who knew what he was doing. But I wanted to know what the other two attacks were.

  Orthrus put a hesitant paw on the sizzling ground, allowing its massive foot to sink in. Satisfied it didn’t burn or hurt, the wolf heads appeared to grin. With a quick motion, the wolf galloped at me, leaping just as I clicked Feral Claw.

  I leaped forward to meet the wolf in the air, both my forward claws lashing out at lightning speed. I felt them both dig deep. We smashed together with a thunderous crash. The wolf plummeted to the earth, hitting so hard, a distant mountain began to collapse. I smashed into the ground, rolling until I stopped against a rocky bluff. A pair of vulture demons swept down at me, the same kind that regularly attacked Charnel, and I swatted them away like gnats. I turned to face Orthrus. I felt myself snarl.

  The countdown timer on Feral Claw was only five minutes.

  The wolf looked pissed. I’d hurt it bad. It had a massive gash on its chest. Blood freely flowed, gushing like a waterfall. But I knew I was hurt worse. My health was down to 21%.

  “Okay, asshole,” I said, “Let’s see what this last attack does.”

  At least that’s what I tried to say. It came out as snarls and screams.

  Orthrus kept back, more hesitant. The right head snarled. It seemed to pause, thinking. And then the whole kaiju pulsed. A blue light flashed, almost blinding. The wolf sat, both heads pointing into the air, howling.

  He was performing a special attack of his own, I realized.

  I watched with equal fascination and horror as the howling wolf split in half, right down the middle. Both sides collapsed to the ground. For a moment, I thought maybe I had miraculously killed it. But the two wolf pieces, each with a head, two legs, and half a tail rolled onto the ground, gore side up, settling to a stop with a deafening crash. The halves twitched. Eight colossal legs emerged from the top and bottom of the creature, from the area below the neck and the area by the tail. Each leg was fifty feet long, segmented, crab-like. The two remaining wolf legs on each half, one front leg and one back leg twisted and cracked, becoming pincers. The two horrific crab things rocked back and forth, both on their backs. Each managed to flip themselves over. Gore and intestines and blood and muscle cascaded out of the turned-over kaiju halves.

  I should have attacked while they were down, but I was so damn fascinated with the display, I could do nothing but watch, repulsed.

  The halves skittered toward me. Neither half was as high as my chest, but both halves remained huge. The wolf heads, one on the left side of one, one on the right of the other continued to bite and snarl, but the eyes were milky white, dead, zombie-like.

  “What the actual fuck,” I said. Again, it came out as a snarl.

  One of the halves circled around behind me.

  I wondered which half Jenk was in. The green tag remained over both halves. I took a tentative step toward the half with the head on the right side. The leg-pincers snapped at me. Every time the kaiju moved, more of its innards slurped out of it, painting the rocky ground red.

  That can’t be good for the kaiju.

  Whirlwind quick, both halves struck, leaping simultaneously.

  I clicked Batshit Berserker.

  An Are you Sure? appeared, surprising me. I panic-clicked Yes as I felt my back leg get mercilessly ripped off.

  The next part happened so quickly, I’m not certain what exactly my kaiju did.

  Moritasgus died, or was knocked out. That much I knew. I’m pretty certain I also killed at least half of Orthrus, though I imagined that thing was already well on its way to being dead.

  In that last moment, I felt my jaws snap back, peeling opening like a flower, the top half of my jaw flipping over the top of my head, drowning me in darkness. The bottom half of my long jaw also opened, going down, spreading out. Something came out of me. I had the impression I was going inside out. I felt something latch onto the forward half of Orthrus, a limb or appendage I didn’t have a moment before. I felt that something grasp onto and crush the wolf/crab thing.

  And then it was all over. All physical sensation stopped.

  The world went red, then back to black, and all that remained was the pitiful, terrifying sound of one of the wolf heads yelping.

  Words appeared on the screen.

  Guardian Moritasgus has fallen.

  Chapter 30

  Entering Charnel – Town Square

  I did not die, thank god. The transfer was quick, jarring, sudden. I felt like a top that had been left spinning on a table, finally settling to a stop.

  The ground smacked my face hard, coming up to hit me. My breaths came to me ragged. My heart felt as if it would explode. My body felt odd, unused to the quick change from behemoth back to my normal size. My whole body felt sore, used up, lighter.

  Experience Earned! Experience Earned!

  You are now level 21.

  I wasn’t sure what specifically gave me the experience, but I welcomed the points. I threw a point into strength and a point into durability.

  I pulled myself into a sitting position, only to be bowled over a moment later. A massive form crashed into me, hitting me with the force of a car crash. I cried out in pain, bewildered.

  “You’re back! You’re back!” Banksy cried, looming over me. My pet had gotten bigger. Much bigger. He undulated, dancing all around me, hopping up and down, smashing into the ground with each leap. Worm surgeons, who’d been milling about the town square, all scattered.

  His tongue, thick and wet and smelling of rotten garbage savagely licked at my face. The tongue was as wide as a snow shovel. Each lick pushed me back along the rocky ground.

  “Stop!” I cried, pushing him away. He did not stop.

  “Clara!” Banksy cried, screaming up toward one of the town’s defensive towers. “My dad is back!” He resumed his frantic licking.

  “Stop,” I said again. I started to laugh. I couldn’t help it. The laughter surprised me, but it was genuine. “Okay, Banksy. Stop. You’re going to drown me. Holy crap. Look how big you are!”

  “I’m level 20 now,” Banksy declared proudly, moving back so I could see his full size. “Clara and I went hunting while we waited for you to return.”

  “I can see that,” I said.

  My pet was now about 17 feet long, as long and almost as thick as the largest of crocodiles. Fishhook-like nubs grew along his flesh-colored underbelly. His face had gotten longer, sleeker. Two fangs pushed out of his four-pronged mouth when it was closed, giving him the impression of having an underbite.

  “Look at what I can do now,” he declared.

  “No,” a worm surgeon cried, running forward. It was Renault, the head of the town guard. “No, no, not again!”

  Banksy didn’t listen. He reared up, his face opening like a flower, and he smashed into the ground. In a second, he was gone, having burrowed directly through the cobblestones and dirt. The ground rumbled, and a moment later, he popped back up, twenty feet away in a shower of pebbles and dust. He shook like a dog, dirt showering everywhere.

  Renault came skidding to a stop next to me. He scowled at the hole in the ground, then sighed. “Your pet has been… restless, waiting for your return.”

  I pulled myself to my feet. “I hope he hasn’t been too destructive.”

  Renault shrugged. “This town is already half fallen down. But if you ever bring him into Medina, you must be carefu
l. The office of animal control does not take lightly to destructive pets. You must pay for all the damage your pets do or you risk being jailed.”

  “Animal control?” I said, shaking my head. “There’s an office of animal control?”

  He nodded. “It is run by brownies and fae. They take their work very seriously. If he knocks down a single farmer’s stall, you will attract their attention.”

  I remembered what Anatoly said about going to jail. That had to be avoided at all costs. I looked up at my familiar. “That’s awesome, Banksy,” I said. “But let’s not do that in town anymore, okay?”

  “Okay,” he said, sounding dejected. “It’s pretty fun, though. I can’t wait to do it in guardian hide. Clara says we’re going to when you get back.”

  “Speaking of Clara,” I said. “Where is she?”

  “She’s just about done with her shift,” Renault said. “And if you plan on staying here overnight, you know the rules. Up in the tower with you.”

  “I know the rules,” I said.

  “Oh, oh!” Banksy said. “I can do something else!”

  I looked sidelong at Renault. “Is this something we need to do outside the walls?”

  “No! Check this out.”

  He made a wet sound, his head shaking up and down. Then he ralphed a steaming pile of slime-covered armor and weapons in front of me. The pile was much bigger than what he should’ve been able to hold. I exchanged a horrified glance with Renault.

  “I can hold loot!” he declared proudly. “Clara says there’s some good stuff in here. Some you can wear! We took out an encampment!”

  “Uh, I can see that,” I said, poking at the pile with my foot. I noticed one of the helmets still held a bug-like demon head. These were the same demons I’d seen during the character creation process. They were the most common foot soldiers of the demon army.

  Renault pointed at a gray breastplate with chains hanging off both sides. The armor gave off a subtle glow I’d missed. “Most of this is junk, but I reckon that will suit you well. None of these weapons are as good as your rifle. Those knee pads will work also.”

  I picked up the breastplate and examined its properties.

  Anti-Piercing Plate of the Spellcaster.

  +2 Acumen

  A strong field discourages projectile-based weapons from hitting home.

  In addition, you may cast Invulnerable once a day. Spell lasts for 1.1 seconds per level of Acumen skill.

  “Hell yeah,” I said. Invulnerable was a powerful spell in any game. I removed my gun and pack and slipped the armor over my shirt. It fit perfectly. It weighed almost nothing, but felt solid. This was made specifically for worm surgeons. My acumen ticked up to 14. My soul points bar inched a bit longer.

  The skull-plated knee pads went next.

  Knee Bracers of the Wind

  +1 Deftness

  Nothing too exciting, but much better than nothing. These seemed a bit too large, but they did fit well enough as long as I tied them tightly. Plus they looked pretty cool. My deftness went up to 12.

  There were multiple slightly-enchanted items in the pile, but nothing that would fit me. One was a helmet too small for me but too big for Clara that gave +5 to strength. I suspected it was very valuable. All of it we would be able to sell.

  “Clara kept the potions,” Banksy said. “She also got a ring that makes her small.”

  “You took the long way home, I see,” a new voice said.

  I turned to watch Clara float down and alight in front of me. Her steampunk-style wings buzzed to a stop and folded in on themselves, disappearing against her back. She’d been busy in my absence. She’d also managed to kit herself out in armor and a new gun.

  The armor was a matching set, though it looked a hair too big for her, like it was designed maybe for the bird-headed plague doctorer race, who were slightly larger than the fae. It comprised of a black and gray composite breastplate, like the armor of a superhero amazon princess going through a goth phase, replete with bracers. The bottom half was an armored, segmented, Roman-style skirt that probably was supposed to go her knees but dropped a few inches further on her tiny form. It made her look absurdly cute and fierce at the same time.

  Her new gun appeared to be a pulse Uzi. Small, but it glowed red. She hung it over her shoulder like a purse. She still wore her hand blaster on her hip.

  I gave her a sour look. “So, what was it you said? ‘Don’t worry, Duke. I’ll sign you up for this torture thing, but don’t worry. It’s not going to happen.’”

  She put her hand to her mouth. “Oh my god, Duke. I’d assumed you’d forgotten to change your regeneration spot. I’d assumed you’d gone back to Bast!”

  “I didn’t,” I said. For the next twenty minutes, I gave her a much-abridged version of our separation. I told her of the torture. Of my release by Jazz, and how I took control of Moritasgus.

  I did not tell her about Jenk. I left out the destruction of Kinnegad and of the death of Moritasgus. I would, but not now, not here. We needed to be sitting down, in a quiet place. I remembered what he wanted me to tell her. Tell her ‘You-know-who misses her mommy. But not to worry. She’s in great hands.’

  There was a story there. And if it was anything like my own story, I knew it had to be terrible. It could wait. I pulled the knife of amplification from my belt and tossed it to her.

  “Here’s a souvenir,” I said.

  She caught the knife. Her eyes went wide when she examined its properties. It gave its owner +20% celestial prayer power, which I assumed was like soul points. It was useless to me, but I knew it would be a powerful weapon for her.

  “If you ever need to slice someone’s dick in two, trust me, it does a great job.”

  “Look,” Clara said, cringing. She slipped it into her belt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know about the debt thing. I’ve been here for a long time, been playing this game for a long time. I know a lot, but I didn’t know about that.” She suddenly hugged me, holding me tight. And then she was sobbing. “That must have been terrible. Holy shit. I’m sorry.” She pulled away. “But you have control of a guardian now? Can you summon it here?”

  “No,” I lied. Jenk didn’t know where we were. If I sent the kaiju here, it’d be as good as lighting a sign. “It’s a long story. I’ll explain it later.” I patted Banksy’s head. “Tell me what you two did. And what level are you now?”

  Clara sighed. “I’m level 23. We figured you’d be along in a couple days. I thought you were in Bast, and I figured you were going to cut your way out again or just kill yourself and come back here. You told me about that nearby encampment, remember? Banksy and I went to check it out. We figured we could take them, so we did. It wasn’t too hard. After that we took out a couple other encampments. They’re good for finding loot. The demons keep piles of the stuff. Once we figured out Banksy could store a lot, I had him keep everything that seemed it might be valuable.”

  “Oh, oh,” Banksy said, interrupting. “Tell him about Winky!”

  “Winky?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Oh yeah,” Clara said. “She’s out hunting. Hang on. She closed her eyes, then held out her arm. A moment later came a pop, like the sound of a lightbulb blowing out, and a black bat appeared, hanging upside down off of Clara’s arm. The creature was about ten inches long. As far as I could tell, it looked like a normal, fuzzy black bat.

  Floating upside-down over its head was:

  Familiar – Player Clara

  “Hi Winky!” Banksy said.

  The bat opened one eye, looking at Banksy. She growled.

  “So, you found a familiar,” I said, leaning closer to get a better look. It had enormous ears.

  “Yes, she’s a wink bat,” Clara said. “I found her fluttering around the other night when we were coming back from our raid. They’re a common pet. They don’t get much bigger, but they automatically pick up fallen teeth and are good at finding hidden items. She’s only level six right now. They fight and can teleport a
t will, so you don’t need a pet carrier. They don’t share experience like Banksy does though. Also, they can’t go deep dive with you until they hit level 15. She can’t talk out loud, but she can talk telepathically like Banksy can with you.” She scratched the bat behind the ear, and it made a purring noise. “You can go back to your hunt, little one. I just wanted you to meet our friend, Duke.”

  The bat looked at me and hissed, revealing a mouth of sharp teeth. She extended her wings, flapped twice, then blinked away.

  “She’s my best friend,” said Banksy.

  “Charming,” I said.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” Clara said. She produced a handful of vials. “Here. Take these. The red ones are health potions. This one is an antidote for poison. This one increases your deftness for a while, and this pink one raises your charm by five points for a bit. Oh, and these two.” She handed me a pair of vials with tiny little demons inside.

  I held the vial up to the light. A tiny, red demon buzzed about angrily inside. No bigger than a housefly. He slammed the glass. He saw me looking at him, and he gave me the finger.

  Clara grinned. “They’re specifically for you resurrection magic users. The demon inside dies when you pull the stopper. It gives you soul points or something, I guess. They’re pretty valuable, so only use it when you absolutely need it.”

  My belt had slots for vials, and I placed them in the ready positions. I had four health potions, one antidote, one of the agility potions, one charm potion, and two of the soul power ones. I still had the two potions from Stolas the owl demon, but those remained safe in my pack.

  A distant roar caught my attention. I looked east, toward the abandoned city. My map indicated the Shrill was about four miles away, shuffling south through the city.

  I pulled up my kaiju menu. Moritasgus had regenerated earlier. He hung out in the same rocky area on the west side of the world. Orthrus skulked not too far away. The two kaiju didn’t appear to be fighting, not now that I was no longer in control.